would fight
out the battle to the end as with an enemy.

Herbert, when he got on to his horse to ride home, was forced to
acknowledge to himself that no good whatever had come from his visit
to Hap House. Words had been spoken which might have been much better
left unspoken. An angry man will often cling to his anger because
his anger has been spoken; he will do evil because he has threatened
evil, and is ashamed to be better than his words. And there was
no comfort to be derived from those lavish promises made by Owen
with regard to the property. To Herbert's mind they were mere
moonshine--very graceful on the part of the maker, but meaning
nothing. No one could have Castle Richmond but him who owned it
legally. Owen Fitzgerald would become Sir Owen, and would, as a
matter of course, be Sir Owen of Castle Richmond. There was no
comfort on that score; and then, on that other score, there was so
much discomfort. Of giving up his bride Herbert never for a moment
thought; but he did think, with increasing annoyance, of the angry
threats which had been pronounced against him.

When he rode into the stable-yard as was his wont, he found Richard
waiting for him. This was not customary; as in these latter days
Richard, though he always drove the car, as a sort of subsidiary
coachman to the young ladies to whom the car was supposed to belong
in fee, did not act as general groom. He had been promoted beyond
this, and was a sort of hanger-on about the house, half indoor
servant and half out, doing very much what he liked, and giving
advice to everybody, from the cook downwards. He thanked God that
he knew his place, he would often say; but nobody else knew it.
Nevertheless everybody liked him; even the poor housemaid whom he
snubbed.

"Is anything the matter?" asked Herbert, looking at the man's
sorrow-laden face.

"'Deed an' there is, Mr. Herbert; Sir Thomas is--"

"My father is not dead!" exclaimed Herbert.

"Oh no, Mr. Herbert; it's not so bad as that; but he is very
failing,--very failing. My lady is with him now."

Herbert ran into the house, and at the bottom of the chief stairs
he met one of his sisters who had heard the steps of his horse. "Oh,
Herbert, I am so glad you have come!" said she. Her eyes and cheeks
were red with tears, and her hand, as her brother took it, was cold
and numbed.

"What is it, Mary? is he worse?"

"Oh, so much worse. Mamma and Emmeline are there. He has asked for
you three or four